Windows to the Soul
by Ouvalyrin
Summary: They say that your eyes are the windows to your soul...so what kind of a soul does -Shuiichi- have? Someone wonders on this matter. Mild yaoi.


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**Disclaimer**: YYH belongs to someone other that Ouvalyrin. So I don't own YYH. Big deal. *sulk*

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**Windows to the Soul**

By Ouvalyrin

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_They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul…so what kind of a soul does _Shuiichi_ have?_

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Have you ever _looked_ at him? I mean really looked at him—straight in the eye, without hesitating or flinching. It's…strange, to say the least of it.

          His eyes…they're green, true. Leaf green, emerald green, whatever. They're green. Enough with it already. There's plenty of green eyes in the world, they're just not as common as brown or black. What _really_ gets my attention are those little flecks of gold in them.

          I'm not much of a poet—why would I want to be one? But those _eyes_…

          The gold is what always gets my attention. Someone told me once that the eyes are immediately attracted to yellow, or any other bright color. So it's not really surprising, you know, but…

          Those flecks, they're not always there. But if you look at his eyes long enough, you start to see them. At first, you think it's your imagination, and then he blinks (dark red lashes against white, white skin), and it's gone.

          You look again. There's a question hovering on his lips and confusion on his face (you've been staring too long), and a wild feral look to green-gold eyes hidden just under that thin layer of color (trapped fox in a cage runs away). He blinks again, and you only see Shuiichi, a pretty human with red hair and green eyes.

          I can see why all that fan club adores Kurama so much. He's the boy you take home to your parents, the sweet, kind, loving boyfriend, and the mysterious, aloof, A+ student who loves nobody, all wrapped up into a package decorated in roses of every color. God…

          It's not like I want to be there, in that crowd of girls (and a few guys) vying for his attention each day. It's just that it would be _nice_ to say that I know him, that I like him…you know? But get real—like they're ever going to believe _that_.

          They say your eyes are the windows to your soul. _'What kind of a soul does Kurama have, then?'_ I wonder.

          Because Kurama's eyes don't tell you anything, but their silence kind of speaks for itself. His eyes are old, but they're young, and he's a paradox given life.

          Heh. Guess I _can_ write poetry.

          He never looks at me unless I make him. He doesn't quite meet my eyes—my chin, my nose, but never my eyes—and I almost never see those eyes trained on me, his attention freely given to me. The others, they want his attention too; Koenma, Kuwabara, even Botan…

          He's a youko. A goddamn _youko_. He's beautiful, he's clever, he's kind, and he's the center of all of our worlds.

          Oh sure—I know the rest of him is beautiful too—just like his eyes, if not more. His hair—rubies dipped in wine—and his skin—snow, and milk, and vanilla ice cream—his hands—long, delicate fingers that hold a whip or a pencil with equal strength…

          See? I know that there's more to him than pretty green-gold eyes. But…they're his _eyes_.

          I've studied them, when he was nearly dead, outstretched on the ground, during the Dark Tournament.

          His lashes—you think they're black, but they're not. They're a dark red, darker than his hair, almost black, but not quite. They're like him—almost demon, almost human, but not quite belonging to either race.

          Me, I'm like that too. Don't belong to anybody but myself.

          If you chase after Kurama too long, you begin to forget. You forget what your first kiss was like, the first time you ever got that fluttery feeling in the bottom of your stomach when you held hands with a girl you liked. You forget the taste of lip gloss that you licked off your lips after that first kiss of yours. You forget what a mother's arms feel like, how much you cried when your dog was run over, and what your mother said to make you stop. You forget…_ice cream_, and the way it melts in your mouth, like sugar and light and happiness and a cool winter's day all at once.

          You forget everything except for a silver, silver fox with gold, gold eyes, dancing in front of you with his tails streaming behind him and sly, laughing smile.

          I think he knows how he affects the entire team, but he's too _Shuiichi_ to do anything with it. Shuiichi has more control over his actions than either of them realize.

          Some people, reading what I've written…they might say that I'm gay. _I'm not_. I just like Kurama, and his gentle, mocking smiles that his eyes never mirror. I've never been attracted to _anyone_ this strongly before.

          Yeah. That's it. Keep telling yourself that, idiot. It's not going to make much of a difference anyway. It's not like I can change anything.

          That was something I learned, you know, ever since Koenma made us part of the Spirit Detectives. You can't change fate, and you can't change anything that's already happened, so you just…go with the flow, I guess.

          Koenma doesn't even know what's happening to him, does he? He tries to get Kurama to focus those eyes of his on him, but he doesn't even notice what he's doing. I can tell, since I do the same thing all the time.

          I think I…I think I _love_ him. L-O-V-E. It's not something that I ever thought would happen, though…Keiko? She's _fantastic_ and all that other shit. Because I really do care about her, and her white panties and brown pigtails and big eyes. Koenma knows I've demonstrated that enough.

          But…what I feel for Kurama, that's different. It's like the entire world just fades away, leaving only him…and me.

          I don't know what the hell-ever I feel for that stupid fox. It's not like he cares or anything, and my confession would only be one amongst many. He's a heart-breaker, the kind of guy I've always hated, because they have _everything_.

          Back to the subject. Kurama's soul. His eyes, with gold flecks swimming in that sea of green.

          To tell the truth, I don't think Shuiichi has a soul. The youko, maybe, but…Shuiichi? No…Kurama's soul still resides mainly in the youko's body.

          Have you ever been to a church? A Catholic one, I mean. I have, when I was a short little brat. Atsuko took me there to get baptized—so I suppose that was before she started drinking.

          The windows…they're pretty, with sunlight shining through them, and colored patches of light all around you. I couldn't go play in them, because the old priest had to pick me up and dunk me in a bathtub scented in roses and sprinkle it on my head and say that I was 'saved.'

          Whatever. The point is, those windows…you looked through them, and you could see yourself, and some woman with a baby or whatever they decided to paint the windows, and if you squinted, a little bit of what was going on outside. But they pretty much didn't show you _anything_.

          Kurama's eyes are like that. They reflect back your face more than anything else, and there's always such a mix of emotions you can't separate them from each other. So you don't try. If you're smart, that is.

          Me, I was never the brightest crayon in the box. Smarter than Kuwabara anyway—I got a whole 5% higher than him on that one test! And I tried to separate those feelings that his eyes sometimes flashed with, and I never succeeded, and ended up being more in 'like' with him than I ever was before.

          You can't figure him out. At first, you think he's kind and gentle and sweet and there's nothing more to him than meets the eye; then you get to know him, and it's like being lost and not wanting to find your way out. His eyes are like a forest green maze, and it's just…

          I'm no good with poetry.

          I told him, just to get him to look at me, about my feelings. Described them all to him while he stood there with a tiny frown on his face and a murky green in his eyes.

          He said that he was sorry. That he couldn't love me. That we were friends, and nothing more.

          I said that I knew, and that I understood, and I kept my eyes locked on his delicate butterfly hands, because I couldn't face his green-gold eyes and look at the Youko laughing at me and my stupidity.

          Kurama _looked_ at me, and kissed me on the lips, and whispered 'I'm sorry, Yuusuke.'

          Like I said, Shuiichi has no soul. Because if he did, why would he do that? Malicious creature that the Youko is, he wouldn't dare mock me so openly, me, the son of Raizen.

          Shuiichi is human, and I can't hurt him.

          Shuiichi has no soul.

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That was just…weird. Plain weird, and I have no idea where that sprung from, only that it's _not my fault._

And Evil-Kurama is so delicious.

**Disclaimer**: YYH belongs to various companies.


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